


this is where the healing begins

by casicastiel (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 8x21 Coda, Gen, Mostly Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/casicastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jesus."</p>
<p>"...was not involved."</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is where the healing begins

“The hell happened to _you_?” Dean asks, once they’ve gotten Castiel safely out of the middle of the road and into the back seat next to Kevin.

Cas glares at him through the rearview mirror; Dean had forgotten how irritable he got when he was injured. “Naomi. Then Crowley.” 

“ _Jesus_.”

“…was not involved.”

Dean glances back at him, trying to assess whether that was a genuine correction or Castiel’s specially dry brand of humor. He can’t tell.

“And Crowley has the angel tablet,” Kevin offers helpfully. Castiel turns to glare at the prophet, though he does add a reluctant nod of confirmation.

“So, what, he let you go?” Dean asks.

“Crowley had more pressing matters. He left me with a guard. I had to kill him.” Castiel breaks out coughing, and Dean gets a twinge of guilt for making him talk.

They pass the Kansas border, and Sam turns to ask, “Will you heal?”

Cas takes a minute to respond, and Dean’s eyes flicker up to the mirror anxiously. “Yes. It will–” he pauses, “it will take significantly longer than a typical wound.”

“You know we’ve got a safehouse, now, if you want somewhere to hang out while you — recupe or whatever,” Dean gestures vaguely. “It’s a pretty sweet place.”

Castiel nods, then leans his head back against the window and closes his eyes. He dozes in and out of awareness for the next few hours, focusing on repairing the most damaged parts of his vessel and Grace, and nearly misses the hushed conversation that takes place in the front seat about thirty miles from their destination.

“Gonna stop up ahead, here, gas her up before we get there.”

“Sure. Oh, you might wanna run in, grab some — water or soda or something. I don’t trust the tap water down there, and I’m not giving Kevin beer.”

“You got money?”

“Yeah.”

“You do it.”

“Then you get to wake them up when we get home.”

“Bitch.”

A muffled cough, then, quietly, “Jerk.”

 

Castiel smiles. He could get used to _home_.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: http://casicastiel.tumblr.com/post/49467189210/


End file.
